She kissed her husband in a mechanical way, and then closed the door and went to her chamber and sat down by the window. Clearly this was the lower town. There had been some mistake. She finished her morning household duties and dressed to go out. Leaving the house by the most convenient way, she crossed the street, and, turning back, looked at the house. It was a plain, three-story wooden house, and in every way suitable for such a commonplace business neighborhood.
“I must have been dreaming about that colonial villa. I’ll go and call on mother.”
She took the trolley car up the great incline to the upper town and went to her mother’s house. The moment she arrived her mother began to ask about the new house.
“Oh, it’s just a plain, three-story, wooden affair down by the lumber yard.”
“I thought you were to occupy the uptown house first.”
“Yes, I thought so, too; but we stayed last night in the lower town.”
Promptly at noon, just as the big whistle roared its hoarse summons to rest, Mrs. Arburton returned to her humble dwelling in the lower town. Lunch was served at once, and then her husband returned to business, leaving his wife alone in the new house. She explored it thoroughly, and felt sure that the parlor and dining-room were the same as she had dreamed about the night before. At six o’clock Mr. Arburton returned to dinner, and after that he proposed that they make a few calls on friends in the upper town.
“Oh, no, not to-night. It’s too far and we shall be so late getting back again.”
“Nonsense, my dear. Put on your things and I’ll be ready in two minutes.”
Five minutes later young Mrs. Arburton appeared arrayed in her best.